Come a Little Closer
by bmart57
Summary: Kurt never went to spy on the Warblers. He saw Blaine at competitions, but they never met. Almost three years later, both boys find themselves attending NYADA as freshmen. It seems they've finally found each other, but the marks high school left may make a relationship together impossible.
1. Prologue

Prologue

(October 2010)

Kurt stormed out of the classroom, poster board in hand and Puck's offensive comment running through his head. _Why don't you make yourself useful and visit the Garglers…You can wear all the feathers you want. You'll fit right in._

It must be shit on Kurt week, he thought. If he had to hear one more homophobic comment or be pushed into one more locker today, Kurt swore he would scream.

His eyes were smarting, but he refused to cry. He refused to let Noah Puckerman of all people get to him. He pulled out his phone and glanced at the time before bursting through the back door to the parking lot.

Normally, Kurt would let Puck's comment roll of him, but it had hit a little close to a thought that had already been going through his mind since Mr. Shue announced their competition the day before. There had been talk that Dalton was a "gay" school which Kurt had to roll his eyes at, but…maybe there was at least one out kid there, someone he could talk to…

If he hurried, he would have just enough time to stop at home, change clothes, and make it to Westerville before the school day let out. He was mentally flipping through his wardrobe for something that would fit in at a private school when he heard the door slam open behind him.

He turned to see Finn running across the parking lot. "Kurt, wait up!" he yelled.

Kurt took a deep breath and released it slowly out of his nose so he wouldn't snap at Finn. It wasn't his fault the other football players were assholes, and it had been almost a year since Finn had bullied Kurt himself.

"What, Finn?" he said when Finn stopped in front of him.

"Where are you going?" he asked, trying to catch his breath.

"To Dalton. I'm going to spy on the 'Garglers,' see if they're a threat." Kurt glances over Finn's shoulder, trying to avoid eye-contact. Finn was usually pretty oblivious, but he had rare moments of incite that made Kurt wary to look at him for too long.

"Kurt, look, man. Puck's an idiot. He didn't mean that," Finn said awkwardly.

"Of course he did," Kurt snapped. "Everyone here means all the homophobic, hateful things they say to me."

"C'mon, Kurt. It's just Puck being Puck. Come back inside. We really need you on this one. I know the guys were giving you a hard time, but they were just messing around."

Kurt clenched his jaw. "I can't take anymore 'messing around' right now, Finn. I just can't." Kurt's voice broke. He was still looking over Finn's shoulder, closely inspecting the bricks on the school wall.

"I know. I told them to cool it. Just come back inside, okay?"

Kurt sighed. "Fine," he said after a pause. "But if I hear one more offensive comment out of anyone, I'm out."

"Perfectly understandable," Finn said, smiling. He clapped Kurt on the back, and together they headed back into the building to discuss the boys versus girls competition they would have later that week.


	2. Chapter 1

_Two and a Half Years Later_

A big ball of nerves was gathered in Kurt's stomach as he stared blankly at the computer screen in front of him. For the last few weeks, he had tried to keep the butterflies at bay, but every time he thought of beginning his classes at NYADA – the school he had been longing to go to, dreaming about, and working toward for two years now – he felt like he could faint.

He couldn't believe it was finally here. Classes began tomorrow. A year late perhaps, but finally, _finally_ he had made it. Kurt was lost in thought, harkening on the journey that had bought him to where he was now.

He remembered with some resentment his first NYADA audition, performing "Not the Boy Next Door" for Carmen Tibideaux, her commendation and then receiving his rejection letter.

The heartbreak he felt at losing what he thought at the time was his only chance at escaping Lima washed over him, leaving him with a tightness in his chest. All those lonely, slightly bitter months after graduation working at the Lima Bean and performing in two-bit productions at the local community theater to boost his application for the next semester of NYADA.

He then thought back fondly on the "intervention" his dad and Rachel had given him six months before. They had all but pushed him out the door and on the train to New York. He recalled his father's words: "Kurt, I love ya, and you'll always have a place in my home, you know that. But you don't belong here anymore. You need to go to New York. It's where your heart is, and it's the only place you'll be truly happy. Go and live your dream, or make a new one, but you need to _go._"

A crying Kurt hugged his father and went about starting his new life. Rachel and Kurt scoured the city for somewhere they could afford to live, Rachel complaining that she couldn't survive another semester with her perpetually sex-crazed roommate on campus. He moved into their little studio apartment within the week and found the job he'd had for the last five months.

It wasn't even a month into his life in New York that he received his second audition for NYADA. Kurt remembered his performance, a soul-baring rendition of "I (Who Have Nothing)" into which he poured all the anguish and loneliness he had felt in the preceding years at never having found someone to so much as understand what it was like being gay in a small town, much less someone to love him. And his audition had paid off – last month he had received his acceptance letter, and now he would be beginning his classes as a musical theatre major.

Kurt Hummel, things are finally coming together for you, he thought.

He snapped out of his reverie when the shrill ring of the phone disrupted the otherwise quiet office. He answered it quickly. "Good afternoon. Marissa Montgomery's office. How may I help you?"

Answering the question perfunctorily, Kurt got back to his duties as office assistant, pushing the ball of nerves from his mind to concentrate on his work.

Later, an exhausted Kurt pushed his way into his small but tastefully decorated apartment.

"Kurt, is that you?" Rachel called from the kitchen. Kurt rolled his eyes. Rachel always insisted on greeting him like they lived in a palace or like they ever had any visitors. Ever. Which they did not. Still, he answered, "Yeah, Rachel, it's me."

He pushed the heavy door closed behind him and engaged the multiple locks on it. It was then that he noticed the smell. "Are you cooking?" he asked, not attempting to disguise the shock from him voice. Rachel never cooked. Either Kurt cooked their meals or they ordered out.

"Yes, I am." Rachel smiled over the counter at him, looking very pleased with herself. "I know you're probably really nervous to start classes tomorrow, so I cooked you dinner to celebrate your first day of classes going well."

Kurt sat his bag down on the table near the door and look at her quizzically. "But…my first day of classes hasn't gone well yet."

She came around the counter and gave Kurt a quick hug. Kurt was secretly pleased to see the apron she was wearing, though he would be sure to tease her about it later. The big unicorn on it smiled up at Kurt, one of the last remnants of Rachel's wardrobe before he had given her a big New York City makeover.

"Yes," she said into his shoulder, "but I know it will. You're amazing, and you're going to do amazing, okay?"

He hugged her back tightly. "Thank you, Rachel."

She released him. "Okay," she said brightly, clapping her hands together. "Go wash up, I'll set the table."

Kurt smiled at her and headed to the bathroom, taking a big whiff as he walked. Smelled like some sort of pasta. That sounded perfect to Kurt. A carb fest was _exactly_ what he needed to take his mind off of the next day.

The next morning, Kurt smacked his alarm and groaned at the early hour. He had long since gotten out of the habit of hitting the snooze button multiple times, as he and Rachel had different schedules and usually didn't wake at the same time.

He had gotten very little sleep the night before, constantly tossing and turning imagining what his first day at NYADA would entail.

As he got up and dressed, he tried to focus on his resentment at having such an early first class instead of the nausea building up in his stomach. His task was made easier when he saw Rachel dozing peacefully. As a sophomore, she hadn't been stuck with an eight am class.

After he was convinced he looked perfect – he'd worked on picking out the perfect outfit for longer than he cared to admit – Kurt rushed out of the apartment and to the subway.

When he got to campus, Kurt barely looked around as he made his way to his first class. Rachel had already given him a tour and shown him where all his classes were so he wouldn't get lost or be late.

Kurt made it to the classroom in record time and plopped down in the semi-circle of chairs in the center of the room just as the professor entered. He looked around and took stock of the people around him. There were ten in all including himself. Six were girls, the rest guys. Everyone had similar body types and were classically attractive, Kurt noticed somewhat caustically. Gone was the frumpy middle-class of Lima, Ohio.

He brought his eyes to his new Acting I: Foundations professor. She was middle-aged, perhaps late thirties, with a stylish bob and a well-dressed figure. Kurt immediately approved. However, what relaxed Kurt most about the woman was her warm smile. He released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and waited patiently for her to signal the beginning of class.

Finally, she came and stood in front of the students. "Good morning, students. My name is Allison Lane and may I be the first to say, welcome to NYADA, and welcome to Acting I. You guys are the cream of the crop, the top dogs, the best of the best, and I expect nothing less of you. Look around. The people in this room are going to be your scene partners for the rest of the semester. You are all your best resource. Use each other wisely. Give constructive feedback and accept criticism with an open mind. This is not an audition. You guys are not competitors; you're comrades. That being said, let's jump right into the introductions. I want name, home town, major, and favorite production you've been in. Go." She pointed to the dark-haired girl at the end of the row.

And so they went around, introducing themselves. The names went right through Kurt's mind, something he knew he would regret later. Most were musical theatre or acting majors, but he was caught up in the deluge of places these people had come from and productions they had been in. California, Iowa, Michigan, Kentucky, two from New York, Delaware. And goodness, Kurt thought. Everyone had said a different production. _Rent, Phantom, Spring Awakening, The Glass Menagerie, Hamlet, It's a Wonderful Life._ All leads, Kurt imagined. His head began to spin. It occurred to him for the first time that he was probably not the most talented person in the room.

When it was his turn, he said, "Kurt Hummel. Lima, Ohio. I am a musical theatre major, and my favorite production was _Into the Woods._" Of course, it was only a community production, and the Rapunzel couldn't hit her notes to save her life, and only about thirty people came to see the show, but no one in the room had to know that.

After everyone had finished, Professor Lane clapped her hands together. "Alright, great. Now, let's go ahead and start with the basics."

Blaine swore as his passed down yet another hallway, the numbers about the doors headed in the opposite direction of the one he needed. If he didn't hurry, he was going to be late for yet another class. He was definitely regretting not having taken that tour they offered incoming freshmen a few days before.

But then Blaine remembered the reason he'd been late, and he couldn't feel any remorse. That redhead on his knees in the bathroom stall…he would have blown off the President to feel his cock buried in the back of that guy's throat.

Blaine turned around abruptly, realizing he was heading in the wrong direction again. With his head in the clouds and his unexpected movement, he caught the guy walking behind him completely off guard. The boys collided, and Blaine dropped his phone on the ground.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry," Blaine apologized immediately, bending down to pick up his phone. When he stood back up, he got a good look at the other guy. Taller than Blaine, – but then again, most people were – the guy had the body of a god, if his tight fitting shirt was any indication. He had short dark hair, expertly styled, with chocolate brown eyes and a five o clock shadow. What did Blaine in, though, was the guy's sexy half smile.

"Don't worry about it," the guy replied, obviously eyeing Blaine up and down. "It was my fault. I was distracted by you walking in front of me."

Blaine returned the guy's smile with his own sultry smirk and leaned closer to him. "If you think my ass looks good in these jeans, you should see it out of them."

The guy looked down at Blaine through lowered eyelids. "Oh, I intend to," he said lowly.

"Blaine," Blaine said after a moment.

"Will," the guy replied. "You should give me your number, Blaine."

Will pulled out his phone and Blaine rattled off his phone number.

"I'll be in touch," Will said, slowly beginning to walk away.

"Wait," Blaine said. "Any chance you could tell me where room 301 is?"

Will laughed. "Should've known you were a freshman. Back that way," he nodded his head in the direction they had both been walking from. "Second hall on the left all the way down."

"Thanks!" Blaine called, walking rapidly in the way Will had indicated.

Relief washed over him when he got to the door with the correct number above it. As he was walking in his phone vibrated in his pocket. He took it out, seeing he had a text from an unknown number. He paused just inside the doorway to read it.

_Can't wait to see your ass out of those jeans._

He smirked and after adding Will's number to his contacts, pocketed his phone and looked up.

His eyes immediately met piercing blue ones, and his heart skipped a beat. The boy looked away quickly, but Blaine was hooked. He eyed the other boy up and down, noticing his very chic outfit, his slender build, his flawless skin, and coiffed hair. The buy was good-looking yes, but that wasn't it. This wasn't the same attraction Blaine had felt to the other guy in the hallway.

The fact of the matter was Blaine recognized him immediately. He didn't know his name, but he could never forget that face. He had longed for this boy for years throughout high school, but he had either been in a relationship or been too cowardly to go up to a performer in a rival glee club to talk to him.

And the truth was this was the most beautiful boy he had ever seen. It wasn't sexiness or allure; it was pure, unpolluted beauty.

And he had to have him.

Before Kurt knew it, he was headed to his last class of the day, musical theater techniques. His day had been quite anticlimactic really, and he began to feel very silly for having been so nervous.

His other classes had consisted of introductions and brushing up on basics, and he had lunch outside in the courtyard, people watching and texting Mercedes, Rachel, his dad, and Finn, all of whom had wished him good luck on his first day.

The only other notable part of his day had been his ballet class with that witch, Cassandra July. Rachel had warned him about her, of course, but it still burned Kurt up when she told him he had chicken legs and his plies were "pathetic."

Still, Kurt's mood had drastically lightened since that morning. Despite being disheartened by the realization he'd had that he was not the most talented person at NYADA, the nerves all but dissipated as he familiarized himself with his new home.

No, he may not be the best here now, but he vowed to really soak up as much as he could, really learn to harness his talents, and by the time he graduated, he would be one of the best.

And Kurt had spent so much time being nervous, he forgot to be excited about the fact that he would finally be formally trained. His classes no longer consisted of doing boring math equations and learning useless facts about dead presidents. He was meeting with a vocal coach individually, as well as learning ballet, acting, musicianship, and musical theatre techniques, which happened to be his last class of the day.

Kurt walked in with a few minutes to spare and picked a seat at the end of the row of chairs lined up in the small but well lit room. Though Kurt was happy to see that most of his classes didn't have the traditional classroom setting with desks, the layout of this particular room made him nostalgic for his glee club days, and he felt a pang of sadness when the professor walked in and he wasn't Mr. Shue.

The professor went to the desk in the corner to prepare for class, and Kurt's eyes drifted back to the door. As he was absently wondering what was going on at McKinley at that exact moment, Kurt's breath stopped as he saw what was undoubtedly the most _gorgeous_ boy he had ever seen walk through the doorway. Kurt was staring, he knew it, but he couldn't seem to stop. Luckily, the boy was checking his phone and didn't notice.

Frankly, there were a lot cute guys a NYADA, and the kicker part was for the first time in his life, Kurt was surrounded by hot _gay_, probably available men. So many that he had had to actively ignore that fact all day in order to focus on his classes. Of course, Kurt had been in New York for months, and he had obviously encountered other gay men. He'd even gone on a few dates, but nothing clicked. All the men he'd met were only interested in jumping straight into bed, and that just wasn't Kurt's style.

This boy, though, was different. Kurt wasn't only attracted to him; he was floored. He was adorable, a few inches shorter than Kurt, with dark, slightly unruly curly hair, and dressed impeccably in tight jeans and a v neck t-shirt. The boy smiled at his phone, put it in his pocket and looked up. His gaze caught Kurt's, who promptly looked away, painfully aware that he was blushing all the way up to his hairline. He looked down at his hands in his lap, and thought one word – _hazel._

Maybe it was only because he had been thinking of glee club only moments before, or maybe it had taken Kurt a few seconds because he had never seen the boy out of his Warbler's uniform and he used to wear his hair differently, but it the time it took for him to cross the room and sit in the seat next to Kurt, he realized he recognized him.

"Hi," the boy said, startling Kurt a bit. No one had introduced themselves to him personally all day or gone out of the way to talk to him at all.

Kurt glanced over at him to see a wide smile on his face. "Um, hi," Kurt replied, a bit flustered.

"I'm Blaine," he said.

"Kurt." Normally, Kurt was more articulate, but those eyes made Kurt forget how to construct sentences. He was aware he may be coming off as rude, but he didn't know what to do about it.

"Do I know you? You look a little familiar."

Breathe, Kurt commanded himself. Make eye-contact. "I think our glee clubs competed in competitions the last couple of years. You sang lead for the Warblers, right?"

Kurt thought he detected a bit of pink tinge the cheeks of the boy's – Blaine's, he mentally corrected himself – olive complexion as well. "That's right. You went to McKinley." Kurt nodded. "Well, I'll try not to hold it against you that you guys kicked our butts."

Kurt laughed. "Thanks, I appreciate that."

Just then, the professor began class, and Kurt was simultaneously glad because he wouldn't have to look like an idiot any longer but also disappointed that their conversation was cut off.

"Alright, everyone listen up," the professor said. The boys faced forward and the chatter in the room stopped. Kurt took stock of his teacher. Gates was his name, if Kurt remembered correctly from his schedule. He had longish, stringy brown hair and a Jesus beard, and he was wearing a long-sleeved paisley – Kurt nearly shuddered – shirt, blue jeans and flip flops.

"My name is Mr. Gates and you are my class. This is musical theatre techniques, so if you aren't a musical theatre major, what the heck are you doin' here? The door's that way."

He paused, waiting for confused students to leave, and Kurt nearly rolled his eyes. Still, he found his professor's somewhat quirky personality to be quite endearing.

"No one? Okay, good. This class is all about how to approach a song, how to give it emotion, make it breathe life. You're taking classes on technical skill, improving your range and hitting notes. That's not what my class is about. All of you are good singers. My job is to teach you to integrate your feelings into your songs. Because you're all artists, and the whole point of art is to convey emotion. To make the audience feel what you're feeling. Because that's what it's all about, right?"

He paused again, looking somewhat wistful. Kurt knew between his oddball professor and Blaine, this was already shaping up to be his favorite class.

Mr. Gates continued, "There will be some written coursework, but the bulk of your grade in this class will come from performance. You and you" – he pointed to Kurt and Blaine – "partners. You and you." And so he went down the line until everyone had been paired. Blaine shot Kurt a quick smile and a shrug, and but Kurt thought he detected a hint of disappointment in the other boy's eyes. Kurt smiled back at him tentatively.

"The person I've paired you up with is going to be your lifeline throughout this semester. It is our firm belief here at NYADA that students learn to support and rely upon each other, because ladies and gentleman, performance is not a solo sport. Your partner will help you select your songs, rehearse, prepare for your in-class performances, and will also be your duet partner during some assignments. I encourage you guys to get to know one another."

Kurt tried to seem blasé about being assigned Blaine as his partner, but he could barely contain a shriek of delight. They were going to have to spend time outside of class together, maybe even become friends… Kurt let his thought trail off there. He didn't want to get ahead of himself.

Mr. Gates went on about the basics of song selection and emoting through song, a concept Kurt found terrifying, because lack of emotional depth in his performance was why he had been denied acceptance to NYADA the first time. He tried to calm himself by remembering that he had mastered it at his second audition.

At the end of the period, Mr. Gates gave them their first assignment. "I want you guys to pick a song that expresses how you feel right now. The dominant emotion you have, the biggest thing you've ever felt. Just any song you can put the most _umph_ into. I want to gauge where you are, so I can see how far we need to go together. No limits as to artist or repertoire. Performances on Friday. Don't forget to utilize your partners. That's all. See you guys next time."

Kurt bent down to gather his belongings when he heard Blaine say his name. He looked up to see Blaine's phone pointed at his face. He hears the unmistakable sound of the shutter going off on Blaine's camera phone, meaning he had taken a picture of Kurt. "I wasn't ready!" Kurt exclaimed.

Blaine laughed. "Relax, it's for my contact information. Here." Blaine handed Kurt his phone. "Give me yours." Kurt reached in his pocket and gave Blaine his phone. Blaine clicked around a bit and turned Kurt's phone on himself to take a picture. He made a silly face and Kurt heard the click of his own camera phone go off. He put his name and number into Blaine's phone and the boys swapped.

"Alright," Blaine said. "I guess I'll text you later and we'll see about meeting up to talk about our song selections and stuff."

"S-sounds good," Kurt said, somewhat breathlessly.

"Okay, see you later Kurt." With a parting smile, Blaine got up and left the room, and Kurt really enjoyed watching him walk away.

Blaine's smile fell as soon as he turned away from Kurt. He was so mad, he felt like hitting something.

Blaine had a very firm Don't Shit Where You Sleep policy when it came to guys, or he guessed a more apt name for it would be Don't Come Where You Work, he thought wryly.

The second Gates had assigned them partners, Blaine knew he couldn't sleep with Kurt. His grades and his performance at NYADA were too important to him to jeopardize, even for someone he had wanted for years.

He tried to ease his mind by thinking of December. They would be done with Gate's class, and then Blaine would be free to fuck Kurt, get the boy out of his system, and then completely forget about him. Yes, Blaine thought, that was exactly what he needed.

Until then, he would have to put the idea of sex with Kurt completely out of his mind. It would be easier if the boy had a single physical flaw, but Blaine would have to do his best.

It's not like there weren't plenty of other guys at NYADA Blaine could pass the time with, anyway.

Yes, that's what he needed, a distraction. Five months of distractions.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

That evening, Kurt and Rachel sat in their living room in pajamas, eating sherbet and telling each other about their first day of classes.

Rachel's had passed unremarkably, except she found her History of Musical Theatre class dreadfully boring and loved her Acting Techniques professor.

Kurt tried to be diplomatic about the retelling of his day, but it dissolved into Blaine talk pretty quickly. He tried not to go on about him, but he couldn't seem to help himself. Besides, if he couldn't gush to his best friend about his new crush, then who could he gush to?

Kurt was holding out his phone to show Rachel the adorable photo Blaine had taken of himself.

"Yeah, I _do_ remember him!" Rachel exclaimed. "He was really good. And he's so cute!"

"I know," Kurt sighed wistfully.

"Is he gay?" she asked. Kurt knew exactly where she was leading with that overly bright tone.

"I don't know. I think so, but my gaydar isn't always spot on, and it could just be wishful thinking."

As the two friends gazed down at the delightful picture, Kurt's phone vibrated in his hands, indicating he had received a text message.

Kurt clicked on the screen to open it and almost squealed like a teenage girl when he saw it was from Blaine.

_Hey, Kurt._ _:)_

Kurt looked up at Rachel, who was laughing hysterically. "Shut up!" he told her, blushing.

"Oh my _god,_ Kurt! I haven't seen you this worked up over a guy since you first saw Taylor Lautner take his shirt off in _Twilight_!" She snorted and almost dumped her bowl of half-melted sherbet in her lap.

"Oh, don't act like you weren't freaking out right beside me over those mantastic abs!"

"Whatever," she said around a giggle. "Are you going to answer him, or aren't you?"

"Oh, right!" he paused. "What should I say?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Gee, Kurt, I don't know. How about 'hello'?"

He thought for a second, then thumbed out a reply. _Well hello, Blaine Warbler._

"Oh, you want him _so bad,_ you little flirting flirter!"

"I do not!"

Rachel sat her bowl on the edge of the couch and sprung at Kurt. She started tickling him mercilessly. "Admit it!"

"Rachel, stop! _Stop_!" Kurt yelled around his giggles.

"I'll stop when you admit that you loooove him! You want to have his little Warbler babies!"

Kurt tried to squirm out from under him, but for such a small girl she was strong. "_Rachel!_ Damn it, stop! We – are – adults!" Kurt was full on flailing at this point, yet he somehow managed to keep his phone in his hand. His only motivation was how expensive it had been to fix the cracked screen the last time he had dropped it. He felt it vibrating in his hand. "He – he texted back! Stop so I can reply!"

"Not until you admit it!" She was lying on top of him horizontally at this point, using her body weight as leverage against him. They had been friends for long enough that she knew exactly the parts of his ribs that were the most ticklish. It was then that Kurt's flailing foot knocked over the precariously perched bowl of sherbet on the edge of the couch. It went crashing to the floor, and the noise made them both pause. Kurt gasped for air, after his giggle fit had ended.

"I am so not cleaning that up," he said.

She climbed off of him and looked down to inspect the mess. "_You_ knocked it over!"

"So? It was your fault. You were tickling me!" he retorted.

"Fine," she sighed dramatically, but still with a grin. "I'll clean it up, you answer your text."

In the excitement, Kurt had forgotten about the text.

_So, how weird is Gates?_

Kurt laughed at his thoughts from earlier in the day being echoed. _So, so weird. He looks like he got lost on his way to Woodstock._

Kurt only had to wait about twenty seconds for his phone to vibrate with another incoming message. He was happy to find Blaine to be a fast text replier and that he also used proper grammar in texts. _Haha. Definitely. But he's also quite charming in a way, isn't he?_

_Exactly. Very earnest and endearing._

_So, I was thinking we could get together for coffee or something tomorrow evening and discuss our song selections for our first assignment._

Kurt couldn't help but get butterflies, even though he told himself repeatedly that this was not a date, that Blaine might not even be gay. It was two partners getting together to discuss school work. That was all. _Sounds good to me. I have work until five, but after that I'm free. Where do you live?_

_Upper West Side._ _How about you?_

Kurt's eyebrows raised in shock. He and Rachel had looked into apartments when he first moved to New York. Obviously, they had started near NYADA and moved out, trying to find the nicest place closest to campus that they could afford. He knew how much apartments were on the Upper West Side, and well, they weren't cheap.

_Bushwick. But I work on West 57th. We can meet around NYADA. There's this coffee shop near campus I love, the Aroma Espresso Bar._

While Kurt was waiting for Blaine to text back, Rachel came in with a rag and a spray bottle of cleaning solution. She started scooping the sherbet into the bowl and wiping down the floor. Luckily, most of the mess had missed the rug. "What's he saying?" she asked.

"We're meeting tomorrow for coffee to talk about our assignment." Kurt could feel his cheeks turn pink but hoped she wouldn't notice.

"Oooh, sounds like someone has a daaate!" she said in a sing-song voice.

Kurt shot her a glare. "What are you, twelve?"

"Twelve and a half," she shot back cheekily.

"Anyway, it's not a date. It's to talk about our assignment." Kurt tried to sound convincing but his heart plunging up to his throat when his phone vibrated with Blaine's reply was probably a dead giveaway to Rachel.

_Yeah, I know where that is. 5:30?_

He thumbed out his reply immediately. _Sounds good. See you tomorrow. _

"If it's not a date then why are you smiling like that?" Rachel asked with a smirk.

"I'm not smiling like anything," Kurt replied, even as he felt the corners of his mouth stuck in a goofy grin.

His phone vibrated again. _K. :)_

She dropped the cleaning spray and rag and jumped on him again. "You are such a liar!" She started tickling him mercilessly again.

"Rachel!" he said around giggles. "Stop! _Stop!_"

The next day, Kurt was walking a brisk pace in order to meet Blaine on time. It was the hottest time of year, and the humidity was making him sweat profusely and deactivating his hair spray. To top it off, Marissa had kept him late to run an errand. He cursed as he checked his phone. It was five twenty-eight and he still had eight blocks to go.

He walked through the door a few minutes later and looked around the sea of red – the walls, the chairs, even the tables were all the bright hue – until he saw Blaine sitting in the corner. He was glancing down intently at his phone, frowning. Kurt hurried over to him. "Hey, sorry I'm late. They kept me a little late at work."

Blaine stood up and smiled at him, putting his phone away. "No, it's fine. It's only a few minutes. Let's go get some coffee. I could use a refill." Kurt looks down and sees that Blaine's cup was indeed empty.

"How long have you been here?" Kurt asked as they headed toward the counter to place their orders.

"Not too long. I just decided to come a little early." Both boys placed their orders, received their beverages – a small brewed coffee for Blaine and a non-fat mocha for Kurt – and went back to reclaim their table in the corner.

"So, where do you work?" Blaine said after they had settled in.

"I'm an office assistant for the executive fashion director at _Elle_."

Blaine eyebrows shot up. "Wow, that's really awesome."

Kurt blushed slightly and shrugged. "It sounds a lot cooler than it is. It's mostly running errands and answering emails and phone calls."

Blaine took a sip of his coffee. "Yeah, but still. You work at one of the world's largest fashion magazines. That's amazing."

Kurt smiled and glanced down at his coffee. "Yeah, I guess it is." He's definitely gay, Kurt thought.

"Have you come up with your song for our first assignment yet?" Blaine asked after a brief pause.

"Um, yeah." Kurt was a little bit nervous about discussing his song selection with Blaine. He had been sure to pick a song that he could really emote through, but that meant expressing some of his more private feelings, and he was sure they were going to have to get around to talking about the motivations behind the song selections. "I picked Bonnie Raitt's 'I Can't Make You Love Me.'" Kurt could see the interest spark in Blaine's eyes but could tell he was too polite to ask.

"Hm. Good song," he finally said.

Kurt nodded. "How about you?"

"'Hallelujah' by Rufus Wainwright."

"That's one of my favorites. Very good choice." Kurt nodded his approval.

Blaine returned his nod and both boys took long sips of their coffee. There was an awkward pause, and Blaine had a smirk which swiftly turned into a full on grin.

Kurt sighed and dropped his head in his hand. "We're going to have to talk about why we picked the songs, aren't we?"

Blaine chuckled. "I don't see how there's any way around it."

"Alright, well…you go first."

"Why do I have to go first?" Blaine exclaimed, indignant.

"Because I told you my song choice first." Kurt smirked at his own logic.

"That's not the same!" Kurt looked at him pointedly. Blaine finally broke. "Okay, fine. I picked 'Hallelujah' because my mom used to play it for me all the time when I was a kid. She taught me to play piano. We've always been really close, and when I came out, she supported me wholeheartedly. When I went away to Dalton, we really kind of lost touch. I mean, she was still there for me, but it wasn't the same, you know? Now that I've moved away, I just…I really miss her."

Kurt was reeling from Blaine's explanation. From the declaration of his sexuality to the in depth personal details, it was so much more than Kurt had been expecting. He expected a terse sentence devoid of much actual information, and he was suddenly glad he'd elected to go second, because he wouldn't have allowed Blaine nearly as many details had he gone first.

"That's…that's really nice," Kurt said after a pause. "Not that you guys grew apart," Kurt backpedaled, realizing what he'd said. "I meant it's really nice that you have a song that reminds you of her."

"Yeah," Blaine said, nodding his understanding. "Your turn."

Kurt took a deep, settling breath. He owed Blaine the truth, but his explanation was much more embarrassing that Blaine's had been.

"I was the only out kid at my high school. Actually, I was the only…well, one of the only gay guys I'd ever really met. It was…hard. And lonely. I ended up developing quite a few misguided, empty crushes on some of my very straight friends, one of whom later became my step brother."

Kurt shuddered at the thought of Finn in a romantic sense, and Blaine's eyes widened, both in shock and in sympathy.

"Wow, Kurt." Blaine reached his hand out to cover Kurt's on the table. "That makes me really sorry that we never got to know each other back then so you could have had someone to relate to. I can't imagine how hard that must have been."

Something sparked in Kurt's memory. "You know, it's funny that you mention–"

"Blaine?" Kurt looked up to see a tall boy with sandy blond hair standing over their table holding a to-go cup of coffee. He was looking at Blaine with what Kurt could only describe as a kicked puppy dog look. Kurt looked to Blaine, whose eyes were wide in shock.

"Oh, uh, hey…" Blaine stammered, clearly having forgotten the boy's name.

"Terrence," the boy replied, sounding greatly offended.

"Right! Terrence, of course. How are you?" Kurt had never seen Blaine so flustered. He quirked an eyebrow at the awkward situation he was now witnessing. He looked back up at the boy, Terrence, and Kurt was surprised to see him almost in tears.

"How-_how am I_? You never called me." Both of Kurt's eyebrows shot up at this. He could tell Terrence was trying to sound angry, but he mostly just sounded sad. Kurt kept his eyes on Blaine, but Blaine was deliberately looking anywhere but at Kurt.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," he replied after a beat. "I've been really busy with school starting up and everything…" he trailed off.

Terrence's eyes then landed very pointedly on the boys' hands that were still in contact on top of the table. "And who's this?" he said cattily, eyeing Kurt up and down. Kurt pulled his hand away from Blaine's in what he hope was a surreptitious manner and looked to Blaine to answer the question.

"This is Kurt, a friend from school. Kurt this is Terrence."

"Yes, so I've gathered," Kurt said breezily. "Nice to meet you. Look, Blaine. It's getting late. I should probably head out."

"Oh, don't leave on my account," Terrence said haughtily. "I'm done here. Have a nice _life_, Blaine." As Terrence turned on his heel and walked out of the coffee shop, Kurt stood and gathered his belongings.

"I'm really sorry about that," Blaine said hastily.

"Don't worry about it." Kurt gave him a small smile. "I'll see you in class tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Bye, Kurt." Kurt couldn't tell if it was embarrassment or something else that colored Blaine's tone, but he didn't want to stay to fine out. Offering up a small wave, he turned and exited the coffee shop. When the door closed, though, he couldn't help but turn for one last glance. Blaine was sitting with his elbows on the table and his hands covering both his eyes.

After a stuttered step, Kurt turned and headed for the nearest subway.

When Kurt walked out of the coffee shop, Blaine dropped his head in his hands and groaned. The entire last hour been an utter disaster.

First, he got to the coffee shop a little early to call his mom and tell her about his classes. She had listened for a few minutes, but then told Blaine she was busy and would call him back later.

He was debating calling Coop when Kurt walked in, flustered from rushing.

Then they had got to talking. Blaine hadn't meant to share so much of his personal life with Kurt in their first real conversation, but something about the really earnest look in Kurt's eyes had him talking about his mother. It didn't help that his disappointment was still so fresh from the call a little while before.

And when Kurt told him about being completely alone all throughout high school, a part of Blaine melted. He couldn't _not_ reach for Kurt's hand. He vowed in that instant to become a friend to Kurt, someone he could talk to, someone he could be there for. He vowed not to be a shithead for once in his life.

And in the seconds after Blaine had made that vow to himself, some twink he'd banged a few nights before comes up and makes a complete spectacle and ruins their conversation. Blaine tried to feel sorry for the guy – _Terrence_, Blaine thought, rolling his eyes – but really, he felt like the wronged party in this situation.

He had met Terrence a few nights before at a gay club downtown. Blaine had been talking to a few other guys, dancing, drinking, and having a good time when Terrence came up to him, introduced himself, and told Blaine he wanted to go back to his place. No drinks, no conversation, not even a dance, nothing.

So they went. They had a good time. Terrence was a decent fuck. But when they were done and Blaine told Terrence he needed to leave so he could get cleaned up, Terrence had the nerve to get all indignant about being kicked out. He left his number on Blaine's kitchen counter, which Blaine found the next morning and promptly threw out.

And that was supposed to be the end of the story. But then he waltzes into the coffee shop today and treats Blaine like some criminal for not wanting to marry him or whatever.

And now Kurt probably thought he was just some whore who went around using guys for sex and then tossing them aside…which Blaine supposed he was, but other guys used him, too. They used each other. It didn't make Blaine a bad person.

In fact, Blaine thought, if Kurt was going to judge him based on the exchange he saw today, then maybe he and Kurt shouldn't be friends after all. He rubbed his eyes forcefully, trying to ease some of his frustration. He really needed a drink.

At that moment his phone vibrated on the table. It was a text from Will. Blaine had almost forgotten about the extremely hot guy he'd met in the hallway the day before.

_Hey sexy. Busy?_

Even better than a drink, Blaine thought. He answered Will's text straightaway. _As a matter of fact, no I'm not. Come over?_

_Sure thing._

"Kurt, is that you?" Rachel called from the living room when Kurt entered their apartment – from where he could see her on the sofa not twenty feet away.

"Yes, Rachel," Kurt replied emphatically.

"Thai for dinner. It's already on the way." She was sitting on the sofa flipping through a book in her lap.

He came and plopped down next to her, huffing loudly. "Are you studying already?"

"Just looking at some of the stuff we're going to be learning," she said absently, closing the book. She turned to him, sitting Indian-style. "How was your coffee thing with the Warbler?"

"Bad news or good news first?"

"Good, of course."

"Well, the good news is he's gay."

Rachel clapped her hands together, smiling. "I knew it! No straight guy uses that much hair gel."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "He doesn't actually use that much hair gel anymore."

"Still," Rachel replied. "So, wait, what's the bad news? Is he seeing someone?"

"Worse." Kurt cringed. "He's a heartbreaker."

"Wait, hold on. How could you possibly know that?" Rachel asked skeptically. She often got onto Kurt for being too critical of the men that were interested in him, and maybe sometimes he did jump the gun on initial impressions, but this one he was sure about. Blaine had totally screwed over that guy.

Kurt retold the entire coffee shop fiasco, beginning with the personal details they had shared and concluding with the Terrence incident.

"Maybe you're jumping to conclusions," Rachel said after hearing his story. "Maybe they went on a date or something and Blaine just didn't like that Terrence guy, so he never called him."

"No, I'm telling you Rachel. They slept together. He totally used that poor guy. I could see it all over Blaine's face. It was like he knew that he had done something wrong." Kurt leaned his head back on the couch dejectedly and closed his eyes.

"Well, so what if they did sleep together? A lot of people have casual sex, Kurt. Especially people our age. It's really not that big of a deal."

He opened his right eye to glare at her. "It's never okay to make people feel like shit, Rachel. Terrence obviously didn't think it was a one night thing."

"Alright, geez." Rachel held up her hands in mock surrender. "I'm just saying. Maybe you could give the poor guy the benefit of the doubt. He _is _awfully cute."

Kurt lifted his head. "God, Rachel. Do all of your thoughts originate in your vagina?"

The buzzer sounded, announcing the arrival of their food. Rachel jumped up to answer the door, saying on cue over her shoulder, "Only when I'm hungry."

The next day, Kurt was walking to his musical theater techniques class with dread. He wasn't looking forward to seeing Blaine after yesterday's incident.

"Hey, Kurt! Wait up!" he heard someone from behind him yell. Kurt stopped in his tracks and turned to see Blaine jogging to catch up with him.

"Oh, hey," he said when Blaine was finally at his side. The boys continued walking, heading towards their share last class.

"Listen," Blaine said, "I wanted to apologize again for what happened yesterday at the coffee shop…"

"Blaine, it's fine. Really. It wasn't your fault. Well," Kurt couldn't keep the bitchiness out of his tone, "it was your fault that you screwed that guy over, but I mean it wasn't your fault that he—"

"Excuse me?" Blaine said, stopping and turning towards Kurt. Kurt stopped, too, and turned to him.

"I said, it wasn't your fault," Kurt repeated with faux innocence.

"What do you mean, I 'screwed that guy over'?" Blaine asked heatedly. His eyebrows came down in a line as he all but glared at Kurt.

Kurt put his hands on his hips, refusing to be intimidated. "Blaine, did you see him? He was _heartbroken._"

"Oh, whatever," Blaine said indignantly. He lowers his voice slightly. "The guy goes home with me without even bothering to ask my last name and then gets offended when I don't call him? What the hell did he expect, a proposal? If he wants to pretend that I'm the bad guy so that he doesn't feel bad about his low self-esteem, whatever, that's his problem, but to have you standing here judging me is just – it's _massively_ unfair."

Kurt's eyes widened at Blaine's outburst. Kurt, utterly embarrassed, flushed bright red. Rachel had been right, Kurt _was_ too quick to judge. "I-I'm sorry. You're right, I overstepped. I didn't mean…"

"Yeah, you did." Blaine said. He pursed his lips and headed through the classroom door which Kurt only then noticed was right behind him.

Kurt followed Blaine in sheepishly and saw that everyone else in the room was sitting in the same spot they sat Monday, so cursing internally, Kurt walked slowly to his seat next to Blaine.

He looked out of the corner of his eye to see Blaine sitting stiffly in his chair with his arms crossed and looking pointedly away from Kurt.

Kurt sighed. This was going to be a long hour.

Blaine sat ramrod straight for the entire class period, fuming. He had expected Kurt to be thinking some terrible things about him, but he hadn't expected him to come out and say them. Kurt barely knew him, and he didn't even give him a chance to explain.

Why do you care? Blaine thought. He didn't know. Kurt's opinion mattered to him a lot, and he couldn't figure out why.

He knew Kurt was going to apologize again, and he knew he was going to forgive him.

The only thing he didn't know was how he was going to get through this semester intact.

After what felt like an eternity to Kurt, Gates wrapped up class with a final note to rehearse for their performances on Friday.

Kurt expected Blaine to leap from his chair and leave the classroom before he would get a chance to talk to him, but Blaine surprised him by sitting stock still in his chair, facing forward and glaring. A small part of Kurt really admired Blaine's tenacity. He had managed to maintain his anger all through class, and Kurt really appreciated the drama of it.

"Blaine," Kurt pleaded. "I'm really, really sorry. You were completely right. I had no place to judge you. I was narrow-minded and wrong. Will you please, _please _forgive me?"

Blaine turned his head to look at Kurt's beseeching face, presumably to see if his apology was in earnest. After a moment, he finally said, "Okay."

"Okay?" Kurt asked hopefully.

"Yeah, okay." Blaine replied. He started gathering his belongings.

"Sooo," Kurt said when he realized Blaine wasn't going to say anything more. "Are we going to rehearse together for our performances or I mean, I would understand if you don't want to," Kurt said, standing to match Blaine.

Blaine turned to Kurt and his face softened for the first time. "Of course," he said. "Kurt, even if we're not getting along or whatever, we're still partners, and I still want us to help each other do well in this class."

"Okay," Kurt nodded, smiling. "So, did you want to meet here, or…?"

The boys started heading towards the door of the classroom and then out into the hall. "Actually, I have a piano, guitar, and a stereo for any tracks you might want to play if you wouldn't mind meeting at my apartment. I figure that way we won't have to fight for a rehearsal room or have a limited amount of time to work."

Kurt was delightfully surprised to see Blaine really did seem to have forgiven him. Kurt thought over spending time alone with a guy he only just met but decided he trusted Blaine enough to meet at his apartment. Besides, Kurt was painfully curious to see where the boy lived.

"Well, I don't know," Kurt said coyly, smirking. "You're not going to strangle me, are you?"

"Only if you ask me to," Blaine replied with a devious grin, making Kurt blushed to the tips of his ears.

The boys made plans to meet the next day when Kurt got off of work to rehearse their songs, leaving them time to perfect them as best as they could that night, and bid farewell.


End file.
